Afterhours
by vertiline
Summary: A series of one-shots exploring what happens when UZZ personnel aren't busy saving the world. Various characters.
1. Dinner and A Movie

xXx

"When you said 'dinner at your mother's house' I'm glad you clarified she wasn't going to be cooking," Anita said, opening the pizza box and admiring its contents.

"We *are* friends, Anita. I save Mom's cooking for emergencies or biological weaponry," Victor retorted, pulling open the cellophane that covered a new batch of paper plates. "Do you need a fork?"

Anita shook her head, a bite of pizza already in her mouth.

Victor grimaced at her. "Okay, then. No plate or fork. And here I thought you were a fussbudget."

Anita picked up a long string of cheese from the top of the slice and allowed it to drip in her mouth from above. "Mmmm. Just keep the brub coming."

"Brub? You mean 'grub'," Victor laughed, pouring out some soda. "Your Americanisms need work."

Plopping the pizza on a plate, Anita took both it and her soda into the living room, where Victor had already turned on the television. The DVD player was on and loaded with their favorite James Bond movie, "Goldfinger." "I don't put much stock in those Americanisms anyway. I mean, what would any normal person rather do - go to the loo or sit on the john," Anita pondered, making a face. "I don't know why you name all these things after men whose names start with 'J' anyway. John ... Joe ... John Doe ... Jimmy ..."

"My aren't we a snotty Brit." Victor hit the remote and Shirley Bassy's booming voice filled the room, performing the movie's title track.

"Listen Thomas Jefferson, just be glad your mum wasn't a fan of Grover Cleveland."

"That could have sucked," Victor agreed. He leaned back, eating his pizza and occasionally mouthing some of James Bond's lines, most of which he and Anita knew by heart. Sometimes she'd do a great imitation of a Bond girl or better yet, Pussy Galore which once made Victor's drink come out his nose. "Now, Pussy, you know a lot more about planes than guns," Victor quoted along with Sean Connery. "That's a Smith and Wesson 45, and if you fire at me at this close range, the bullet will pass through me and the fuselage like a blowtorch through butter. The cabin will depressurize, and we'll both be sucked into outer space together. If that's how you want to enter the United States, you're welcome. As for me, I prefer the easy way."

He chuckled - this movie never grew old.

"Do you think he's right? The trajectory would be slowed considerably once it went through a human body," Anita said, grabbing another slice. "Might even flatten the bullet if you hit the spine or ribs."

Victor rolled his eyes. "James Bond is always right. I thought we'd agreed on that."

"I remember agreeing that James Bond is always hot, not right."

"Whatever. Now shush - Oddjob is showing up soon. Say, think Funky Socks will get us hats like that? I'd love to toss a bowler like a frisbee and take out a few Expendables. Pow ... zzzt ... sliiiice."

"Funky Socks barely gets us new batteries for our bikes when we need them." Anita pursed her mouth and started to imitate her boss. "Hmmph, budgeting is secondary only to security, Agent Knight. We must tighten our belts! Flatten our wallets! Pull up our britches and damn the torpedoes! Code Cheapskate! Code Cheapskate!"

Victor burst out laughing. "Oh God ... you're too much."

Finally, they settled in and started watching the movie in earnest. Anita went for a third slice against her better judgment and Victor checked in the coffee table drawer to make sure the antacids were at the ready. He knew that in about twenty minutes ....

"Oooh," Anita groaned exactly nineteen-point-five minutes later, holding her stomach. "I think that slice went down wrong."

"Maybe the other two slices were in its way?" Victor shook the Tums bottle at her. "Luckily, like the Boy Scouts, I'm always prepared for your fatal errors. Just don't wash them down with soda this time. I think the Floaty Heads heard that belch in outer space."

Anita made a face at him, but took the medication anyway. The movie wound down to its conclusion, leaving them both with a satisfied feeling. Or leaving Anita calm and happy - Victor merely got wound up, making karate moves as he cleaned up their mess, kicking his way into the kitchen and tripping when he tried an elaborate move back into the living room.

"Victor ..." Anita warned, as he tried to grab the chandelier and swing from it. "Do I have to switch you to decaf soda again?"

"Your luck has changed, Goldfinger!"

"If you break that light, your mother will banish you to your room for a month and I'll have to break you out for work again like I did last winter. Or have you forgotten? Victor!"

"If I fail to report 008 replaces me ... oh no! Wait! AGH!"

A huge crash and Anita covered her eyes with her hands. "Oh, Victor," she groaned, helping him amid the wreck of Mrs. Volt's prize light fixture. "Now you've done it."

The doorbell rang. Mrs. Volt was back from her reading group and Victor blanched. "You wouldn't want to take the fall for this one would you, pal?"

"Not on your life," Anita hissed, plastering a huge smile on her face when Mrs. Volt walked into the room, her mouth dropping to her chest. "And with that, I must be going. Goodnight, Mrs. Volt. I'll see you soon. Toodles!"

xXx

It was a hard assignment, but Anita handled it with her usual precision and aplomb. Sneak into the back garden, shimmy up the fire escape, three knocks to the glass and ...

"No, mom! I'm not going anywhere, really." Victor slid the window open a crack. "Give me another minute, she's right at the door."

Anita sighed and sat down on the fire escape. This was going to be a long month.

xXx

end


	2. Sunglasses at Night

a/n: Takes place during "Wedgie Attack"

**Sunglasses at Night**

xXx

Kay Kowalski shrugged off her flack jacket, letting it the floor with a thud. She was so tired she didn't even bother taking off her sunglasses before throwing herself on the bed, staring at the darkened ceiling and blowing long, cleansing breaths from her lungs.

Awful day. Maybe the worst day ever and crashing into the security gates didn't help matters much. Knight and Volt were on the run and while a niggling part of her brain wanted to give them the benefit of the doubt, duty overshadowed all emotion.

Until the shift ended that was.

There was no way the culprits were Anita and Victor. Kowalski would have bet her career on it. Conversely, if it were, they were drugged ... or something worse. She didn't want to believe that the higher up were that gullible but then again, they probably knew a lot more than she did.

Somehow that made it easier to follow orders as blindly as she did.

There was a knock at the door and her unit leader, Ray, stumbled in. She automatically started to get up but he motioned her to lay back down. "At ease, Kowalski. We both are relieved due to our, er, little detour."

"Yes, sir."

"Not that slamming our faces into six inches of metal is a detour, but you know what I mean." He sighed and pulled his earphone off with a grimace. "Do you know how many ear infections I've gotten with that thing in there twenty hours a day?" Holding up his hand, he smiled. "Rhetorical question, Kay."

She noticed that he hadn't taken off his dark glasses either. "Do you believe it, sir? About Knight and Volt?"

Ray's expression was unreadable behind the dark lenses. He shrugged, but Kay could see a tense uneasiness lingering around his shoulders. "The evidence is pretty damning. Unless we can no longer believe our eyes then yes, I'd say we have a pair of traitors on our hands." He sighed and loosened the top knot of his tie. "If we're lucky, they'll turn themselves in and we can sort this out."

Kay shifted uncomfortably. She knew what "sorting out" meant in U.Z.Z. terms. Usually a trip behind a door that had no key and she wondered what she would do if she'd been in the position of being the one falsely accused - that is, if they were being falsely accused. It had been pretty damning, the video of them attacking the World Leader's husband, although it seemed incongruous for them to have left off with something as sophomoric as a wedgie attack.

It had been effective, humiliation-wise, as well as sending a message: we can get you when we want, you can't trust us, we were your protectors but now ...

Beside her, Ray rubbed his hands together, wincing. "It's a sight cold in these bunk rooms, Kowalski. You should tell Maintainence to turn the heat up. Dark too ... is that as bright as the light goes?"

"You're wearing your sunglasses, sir." She pointed to her own for emphasis.

"Nothing new there, I wear them all the time and it's still confoundedly dark in here," he said. His fingers hovered by the frames, then lowered without touching. "I can barely see your face."

Slowly, Kay took the glasses off. Squinting in the suddenly bright lamp light, she turned toward her boss. "Better?"

Ray nodded. "Yes. We can't always hide our human side, Kowalski. Sometimes ... sometimes I think this life is eating away at us, taking away something essential from our souls. Doubt, deception ... lies. Protecting things we don't always understand, blindly defending what we're told to."

"It's not easy to close your eyes. Or your heart."

"Same thing really." With a shiver, Ray tightly folded his arms across his chest. "I'm definitely speaking to the building officials. Conditions are going downhill in this place."

"It's usually okay," she replied, knowing that the room was fine. What was bothering her boss was something he didn't dare say - his deep doubts about the assignment they were now on, the pursuit of two agents accused of the unthinkable - the betrayal of their oath, not only to the World Leader but to their co-workers, those who stood next to them in cold dark quarters, blindly defending the world - and each other.

With a sharp gesture, Ray straightened his tie and rose. "Back to the grind, Kowalski. Get some rest - you'll need it. Be ready at 500 hours. If you need an extra blanket, feel free to take mine. I have a nice one my mum made for me last year, a bit itchy but with love in every stitch. Or so she says."

"I appreciate that, sir." She stared at his face, wishing she could see his eyes. Maybe the sight would dispel some of her doubt that she might be making an awful mistake in her blind obedience. Wishful thinking, he'd never taken off those glasses in all the time she'd known him - now would be no difference. "Good night, sir."

"Right. Sleep tight, Kowalski."

He left and closed the door gently behind him. Headed into the lavoratory and turned on the water, hot and flowing hard. Took off the sunglasses and scrubbed at his face, slicking back his hair with dripping fingers.

A glance in the mirror told Ray more than he wanted to know. Eyes ringed with red, the time spent alone that morning weeping like a small boy over Victor and Anita's betrayal and his own doubts that ate at him like poison, burning through his mind.

He could never let his agents see him like this. It was imperative that he lead and to do that, he had to keep them in the dark ...

Even if he had to shade his own eyes forever.

xXx

end

**Hey, I wrote different characters! Reviews are always welcome and appreciated. :D**


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